Category Archives: nature

Autumnal Slide

Autumn leaves colour lawns orange
Litter roads red
The long slide into the cold begins
Advent madness beckons
Like a siren
Calling us onto the rocks
Of family festivities, hidden lonelinesses, retail greed and envy
Soon rooftops will grow neon reindeer
Tinsel will be worn around necks at office parties
All too soon
It will be Christmas

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

 

I’m in Amsterdam this week, and so have left you this poem which rather captures my feeling about the next few months I’m afraid!

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Ophelia’s Gift

Rust red sun
Burns through yellow grey clouds
So dark at Noon
That street lights flicker
The silence of the birds
Is telling

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

 

Storm Ophelia (once a category 3 hurricane) has today brought dust from the Azores and from Portugal. In the west of England, people can smell burning too………..rather apocalyptic.

Exmoor Soundscape

Wild ponies snorting in the shade of a thorn tree
The kee of a buzzard soaring overhead
A ragged baa from a startled ewe
All underlaid by the irregular rumble of falling tumbling water

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

A note to readers from America: An English buzzard is not a vulture, but catches live prey.

Slow Dance

My land was carved in a slow dance
Glacier in, glacier out
Wind and rain overlies the slow dance
Smoothing smoothing
The rhythm of climate is our slow dance
Beat heats up, beat cools down
Industry changed the tempo of Earths slow dance
Faster faster, hotter hotter
We all move to the rhythm of this slow dance
Species come and species go
The way it has always been………..

 

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

The Overwhelming Sky

The overwhelming sky enthralls me
Shows me its magic, fills me with glory
Layers of stratus, piles of towering cumulus
Cirrus lacing glazes overtop
Neon pink icy scribbling on an evening horizon
Fireworks sunsets, pale sleepy dawns
Reds, yellows, purples, greens overwrite the blue and black
Gauguin, Picasso, Rothko must have felt this
The Starry Night is truth, no wonder Vincent suffered so
Genghis rode under this dome that encompasses all of our lives
Did its pressure drive him to the cities for refuge rather than plunder?

The overwhelming sky appears to have no end
Although I know that it is but the skin on the planet apple
It bears down on me, it conquers me
Filling me up with its immensity
Until I spill this burden of  words
To offer them as sacrificial token
To try to explain this hold
To bid to exorcise it
To seek release
But
It is the master of me

 

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

First published on Your One Phone Call earlier this year . Part of a series of poems about the sky, others are Open Sky and Evening Star.

Northern light

Blue Baltic waters
semi-sweet to taste

Pale rose rocked islands
Rising softly from the sea

And oh
Oh
All those Birches

So many Birch trees
tall straight trunks
massing on every surface

White wrapped
Or black inked?
Design icons

Bearing thin scrolls of bark
whose paleness
reflected summers northern light
into grateful eyes

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

I’m still trying to capture my delight in the islands around Helsinki in poetry

Landscapes

My poetry is often triggered by landscape
By empty skies and lonely hills
Or the scattered beauty of an archipelago
I struggle
Again and again
To paint with watercolours
What I can paint with words

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Another part of the daily challenge I’m following for a short while. This poem is in response to the prompt ‘landscape’.

Fellow Traveller

Drowsing on the wayside
Halfway through our walk
We are stopped
Something rustles and I open my eyes
Raise my head
There in the red tipped grasses of the moor
Stands a doe, ears twitching
Black liquid eyes gazing into mine
Two creatures on the uplands
We exchange something in that moment
Before the nearby bleat of a sheep
Startles us each
And the moment and doe are both gone

 

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

The many names of Rain

Precipitation within sight
Rain, drizzle, mizzle
Soft weather, mucky weather
‘The Smoky Smirr o Rain’
Liquid sunshine
Slow words, gentle
But it was spitting this morning
Pitter patter, splash, splish, splodge, squelch
And it bucketed down last night
A torrent,  raining cats and dogs
Not a light soaking rain
Squalling, hailing and sleeting
Flooding, flowing, swamping
A deluge chucking it down

Drowning

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond